Greatness lies in the ability to kill failure
Our 20's are supposed to be our magical age. It's the time for dreams, ideas, romance and fire. All simmering inside and set to fly when we unleash them with the energy of a thousand suns. When was the last time that we dreamt big? Are you still here? Am I just talking to the walls..hello..hello....
Am I existing just to breathe? What happened to the goals we were supposed to achieve? I'm not talking academic, personal and career goals. Those are a given. I'm talking about the supreme goal. If you were to leave the world today, what would you be remembered for?
Am I supposed to just "settle"? The only time I ever felt alive was when I did things that I never wanted or dreamt of doing. Like climbing remote peaks in North India and feeling the beauty of the Earth under and around me.The sweat on my skin. The exhilaration. The pure joy. Conversing with a rural peasant in Russia and sharing a rolled up cigarette. Drinking a cuppa with a grizzled old woman with a smile that could set a heart afire in Asansol. When I questioned why was I here in roaring seas in the Bay of Biscayne. When I wanted to make a difference. Now, I am a hapless, plastic consumer, sitting in my static box checking in and out.
I have all the material comforts, which the move I collect, the unhappier I get.
Last week, a friend suggested I watch a movie. It was called 'The Motorcycle Diaries'. It told the story of a young, idealistic Argentine youth named Ernesto Guevara, who went on a life-changing trip around Latin America with his best friend, and emerged from this momentous journey as 'Che' Guevara'-- rebel, poet, leader, tragic hero. It was this voyage on 2 wheels that transformed a young wannabe medico to dedicating his life to liberating the worldwide oppressed from imperialism. While I don't agree with his views that one must take to the sword every time there is an injustice committed in the world, I totally see how his journey shaped his life.
Look at us, driving in our metal coffins to slave away at a job that pays the bills,sucking it in for a raise,and patting our own backs for mediocre accomplishments. Chasing degrees that guarantee a bigger check every time. More money, more problems. One day I just got rid of my cable and thereafter, my tv. I threw out most of my "label" wear. I started to eat simply. I started exercising with the purpose of quashing my ego. I started reading once again. The classics, obscure works, random paperbacks. I dived into meaningful distractions. This living was making me inconsiderate, lazy and insolent. Who was I to blame? The system or my own desires that gave rise to this symbiotic system?
There is more to do that just doesn't involve consumerism. I for one, have had it with this toxic living. Hollywood-ize your world and you end up becoming a washed up star in re-runs of the C-grade reality show that is your so-called life. I need more than this. I'll be searching for the Truth more so than before. The rest of my life starts now.
Am I existing just to breathe? What happened to the goals we were supposed to achieve? I'm not talking academic, personal and career goals. Those are a given. I'm talking about the supreme goal. If you were to leave the world today, what would you be remembered for?
Am I supposed to just "settle"? The only time I ever felt alive was when I did things that I never wanted or dreamt of doing. Like climbing remote peaks in North India and feeling the beauty of the Earth under and around me.The sweat on my skin. The exhilaration. The pure joy. Conversing with a rural peasant in Russia and sharing a rolled up cigarette. Drinking a cuppa with a grizzled old woman with a smile that could set a heart afire in Asansol. When I questioned why was I here in roaring seas in the Bay of Biscayne. When I wanted to make a difference. Now, I am a hapless, plastic consumer, sitting in my static box checking in and out.
I have all the material comforts, which the move I collect, the unhappier I get.
Last week, a friend suggested I watch a movie. It was called 'The Motorcycle Diaries'. It told the story of a young, idealistic Argentine youth named Ernesto Guevara, who went on a life-changing trip around Latin America with his best friend, and emerged from this momentous journey as 'Che' Guevara'-- rebel, poet, leader, tragic hero. It was this voyage on 2 wheels that transformed a young wannabe medico to dedicating his life to liberating the worldwide oppressed from imperialism. While I don't agree with his views that one must take to the sword every time there is an injustice committed in the world, I totally see how his journey shaped his life.
Look at us, driving in our metal coffins to slave away at a job that pays the bills,sucking it in for a raise,and patting our own backs for mediocre accomplishments. Chasing degrees that guarantee a bigger check every time. More money, more problems. One day I just got rid of my cable and thereafter, my tv. I threw out most of my "label" wear. I started to eat simply. I started exercising with the purpose of quashing my ego. I started reading once again. The classics, obscure works, random paperbacks. I dived into meaningful distractions. This living was making me inconsiderate, lazy and insolent. Who was I to blame? The system or my own desires that gave rise to this symbiotic system?
There is more to do that just doesn't involve consumerism. I for one, have had it with this toxic living. Hollywood-ize your world and you end up becoming a washed up star in re-runs of the C-grade reality show that is your so-called life. I need more than this. I'll be searching for the Truth more so than before. The rest of my life starts now.